


Little Dreamer

by NonstopDoodle



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Other, Reader is gender neutral, Reader is whatever you want, Yes I make up my own lyrics it's fun!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonstopDoodle/pseuds/NonstopDoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton/Reader Oneshot.<br/>You'd just about given up on your future until someone reminds you on how wonderful it is to dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble that INSISTED on being written. It's not romance as it is interaction, but I believe that Mettaton, especially post-pacifist, cares very deeply about every single fan he has.  
> Thus, this little oneshot is born. Enjoy!

The stage was empty, the hall silent as you pushed your janitor’s cart past the thick velvet curtains. The show had ended long ago, the props, the lights, and décor stored away. Everyone had gone home, leaving you behind to clean up the aftermath.

Of glitter. So much glitter.

You were surrounded by mountains of it; pink, purple, and silver shining in piles of frustration everywhere you looked. If there was one thing that _never_ wanted to be cleaned, it was glitter. You closed your eyes with a groan, rubbing your face with your hands. It was going to be a long night, and you were never paid for overtime. Still, there was no point in just standing around and feeling sorry for yourself. Opening your eyes, you squared your shoulders and grabbed a push-broom.

In the end, you couldn’t really complain could you? After all, this had been the opportunity of a lifetime for you. The fact that Mettaton, _the Mettaton_ , had decided to perform in your hometown was huge. What were the odds of that? Of course, you couldn’t go see him yourself. A back row ticket alone would cost more than two month’s worth of rent, and you could barely stay on top of that with this job.

But you did manage something. All it took was a few minutes of pleading to Hank, a gruff but kind-hearted security officer, and he’d let you into the security booth to watch what you could through the cameras. It wasn’t much, but you were close enough to hear the roars of the crowd and the muffled music. And now and then, you could even see Mettaton when he went backstage to prepare for the next part of his show. Even on the fuzzy, black and white monitors, he’d looked amazing. Bright smiles, a playful arch to his brow, his eyes dancing with excitement; he’d been so full of energy, and you’d wished you could see him in person!

But, that was as good as you were going to get. The moment the show was over you were ordered to go clean the bathrooms, then empty the trash cans, then vacuum the carpets, and one thing after another after another. And now, it was sweeping up used glitter in an empty auditorium. It was silly to think that you’d be able to see him, much less ever watch him live.

You paused, looking around the empty stage. What would it be like to see him live? Would he be bursting at the seams with confidence and style? Vibrant and energized under the stage lights?

Would you ever be like that? Could you…?

You shook your head with a sad smile, continuing to push the glitter into manageable piles. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you’d dreamed of being a performer, to be up on stage and living off the applause of the crowd. But your mother had quashed those dreams; drilling into you the need to get a real job, find a practical use for yourself, and to ‘get those foolish fantasies out of your head!’

But…

Almost without realizing it, you’d started to hum under your breath as you pushed about the glitter. Humming turned to half-muttered words, until you were quietly singing Death by Glamour, Mettaton’s well-known theme song. At the end of the verse you stopped, an image of yourself on stage, microphone in hand and stars in your eyes, flashing in your mind. The chorus started out timid, but quickly grew louder and louder until you’d forgotten your job and you were singing your heart out, twirling on stage with the broom as if it were a mic-stand.

 _Glamour my Dear!_  
_That is all I want to hear!_  
_For the spotlight is mine,_  
_And beneath it I shine, like a—_

 _Bright burning star!_  
_I’m a walking work of art!_  
_Which of course you all know,_  
_So it’s on with the show!_

You struck a pose, smiling and winking into an imaginary camera.

 _Just set the pace,_  
_As the stage lights brightly blaze!_  
_You’ll feel love in your heart_  
_When they’re calling your name!_

 _Now it’s!_  
_Time for romance!_  
_And some drama at a glance!_  
_Show your charm and allure,_  
_In your Death by Glamour!_

Spinning in a circle you dropped the broom, grabbed two handfuls of glitter and flung it into the air above your head, laughing as you imagined an audience cheering and applauding. In a dream too sweet to forget, you could almost hear—

_Clap-clap-clap!_

Barely holding back a scream, you whirled around in a panic.

Did your blood run cold, or did your heart beat faster? Did your face turn pale, or blush red like a beet? You couldn’t tell, and you wouldn’t be able to remember either, because behind you stood Mettaton, the real Mettaton, clapping and giving you a delighted smile.

“Bravo!” He called, his perfect teeth flashing in a grin. “Encore! Encore!”

“I-did-you-Met-um—!” You spluttered, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Mettaton’s expression changed to a horrible mixture of amusement and concern as he moved closer, his glossy black hair catching the light.

“Now, now, remember to breathe! We wouldn’t want you to faint now, would we?” He said with a chuckle. At that, you shut your mouth and decided to give him a dumbfounded stare instead.

Tall and graceful, he towered over you with seven feet of fame and glamour. He radiated confidence and was intimidating despite his smile. He was just as handsome, no, _even more_ handsome in person than he was on screen! The hit idol, singer, and actor that rose to fame when Monsters returned to the surface. He was here! He was….was…

Oh no.

“H-h-h…how long…have you been there?!” You wheezed, gripping the hem of your uniform with trembling fingers. Mettaton blinked.

“Hmm? Oh, I came in around the fourth line or so. I had just finished a discussion with the manager of this lovely place—I do love the small town charm—about future performances, when I decided to visit the stage before leaving. I didn’t expect to find such a surprise!”

He crouched down until you were nearly eye-level, his bangs covering his right eye as he eagerly looked at his discovery.

“Do you know that you have an amazing singing voice?”

It felt like the sun was in your chest, that’s how happy you felt. A warm feeling was spreading through your body and you almost couldn't breathe. He thought that your voice was amazing?! You?! This was almost too good to be true…and the nagging voice of your mother echoed from your memories. The hope and joy you were feeling started to fade, but you didn’t want to let them go just yet.

“Do you really mean that?” You asked in a small voice. The excitement on his face changed, softening into a kind smile as he lightly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Absolutely. I don’t believe in being patronizing, especially to my fans. So believe me when I say that your voice is divine. Have you ever performed darling?”

You blushed at the kind honesty in his words and ducked your head, looking down at your glitter-covered shoes.

“Well, no, but…that’s all I’ve ever wanted really. I do want to sing…but Mama always said I was a dreamer, so—”

“So that’s all you need.”

A slender, gloved finger tilted your head up and you blinked in surprise. Mettaton was gazing into your eyes with an earnestness that couldn’t be denied.

“We all need dreams; Monsters, Humans, everyone. If we didn’t have dreams, we wouldn’t get anywhere, myself included.”

He winked in a muted playfulness, giving you another smile. You idly wondered how the metal in his face worked to be so flexible.

“But—”

“Ah, no buts!” Mettaton tapped your nose, pretending to look stern.

“Chase those dreams, make them true, and show the whole world what you’re capable of, no matter what Mama says.”

He straightened up before suddenly turning around and fiddling with something. Confused, you were just about to ask what he was doing when he faced you again, and placed something in your hands.

“If you do chase those dreams, then use this. And I’ll be expecting great things from you, Little Dreamer.”

With a wave, a wink, and brilliant smile, Mettaton left, the heels of his boots clicking on the stage floor. You stared after him in a daze, slowly looking down at your hands. Lying on your palm was a white business card for **Shooting Star Talent Agency.** A small arrow pointed to the back of the card, and you flipped it over. There was a message written in shimmery pink ink, the letters neat and curly.

 _Ask for Marty and tell them I sent you! The stage is waiting!_  
_~~~Mettaton <3_

Feeling a lump in your throat, you clutched the card to your chest, feeling like you could laugh and cry all at once. The rest of the night passed by in a blur, but Mettaton’s words rang in your heart, filling you with a confidence and determination that you’d never felt before.

“Chase those dreams, make them true, and show the whole world what you’re capable of, no matter what Mama says.” You whispered with a smile, eager for a new future you’d make for yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> And yet another Determination reference was made that day.  
> Huzzah.


End file.
